


put these battered bones to rest

by glaeson (midheaven)



Series: we're made in simple forms [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, another soulmate au, when will i rest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midheaven/pseuds/glaeson
Summary: Lena gets her soulmark at thirteen. The name that’s written on her hip, she thinks, is the oddest thing she’s ever seen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello !! here is yet ANOTHER supergirl soulmate au. this one was a bit requested, but i don't rly want to consider this fic being like, in the same universe as the alex/maggie one. idk. you guys can decide tho.
> 
> title from the naked and famous' higher. unbeta'd, all errors mine.
> 
> edit: oh man, just found out that higher actually PLAYED in a supergirl ep. that's pretty amazing. this song deserves all the love it can get, tbh

Lena gets her soulmark at thirteen. The name that’s written on her hip, she thinks, is the oddest thing she’s ever seen.

 

And it’s not because it’s fascinating to see someone else’s name tattooed on your skin, or whatever, it’s just—she can’t _make sense of it._ At all.

 

“Lex,” she calls. “Lex, my soulmark.”

 

Her brother looks up from where he’s reading and stares at Lena, puzzled. “It’s come?” he asks. 

 

“Yeah,” Lena answers. “It’s come, but _I can’t read it._ ”

 

“What do you mean?” Lex stands up from his seat and walks toward his sister, and studies the mark closely. “Jesus,” he mutters, “what language is this in?”

 

-

 

It’s convenient that her soulmark is in a place where people wouldn’t see—it’s easy to pretend that she’s markless. It’s been six years since she got it, and she still has no clue who it is. She’s scoured every fucking language the world has to offer, and none of them even vaguely _resemble_ the marks she has on her skin.

 

Lena thanks whatever deity or system or whatever-it-is that fucked up her soulmark, because she’s free to do what she’s good at: buying girls drinks and bringing them home.

 

She’s got one now, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and _very_ good hands. She (Beth? Brooke? Britt?) has a mark, which isn’t new for Lena (she’s good at this, after all) but she hasn’t met her soulmate yet, so. They’re both just passing the time. 

 

“Cool tattoo,” Beth/Brooke/Britt says, kissing the spot on Lena’s hip while thumbing her underwear. “What does it mean?”

 

Lena smiles, devilish. She rolls them over so she’s on top. “If you can still think straight after I’m done with you, I guess you can find out.”

 

“Oh my God,” she sighs, and Lena pushes two fingers inside. 

 

(They finish, after three orgasms each. The girl forgets to ask.)

 

-

 

Lex has Metropolis wrapped around his finger, and he’s pretty much on track to take over the world. On the other hand, Lena—well. She’s not bad, but she’s not _her brother,_ either.

 

“If you would stop going out so much, Lena,” Lillian chides, “you could be as bright as Lex. Be the heir to Luthor Corp.”

 

“I _am_ as bright as Lex, mother,” Lena replies. “You could ask for my transcript at university, if you’d like to compare.”

 

“Tsk.” Her mother narrows her eyes. “If you could use that quick brain of yours for something other than picking up girls—”

 

“Oh, please, mother, as if anything I do can make you look at me more favourably than you look at Lex.” 

 

Lena waits for her mother’s counter, the _of course not, honey, I love the both of you just the same,_ but it doesn’t come. Her heart sinks when she realises that she just told her mother the truth.

 

Lena walks away.

 

-

 

Lena’s twenty-two when the fucking _unimaginable_ happens.

 

An alien—check that, _alien_ —makes his way to Metropolis, fighting crime and stopping bad guys and keeping his identity secret. The whole nine fucking yards.

 

That’s not the unimaginable part, though.

 

The unimaginable part is the sign that this guy— _Superman_ —wears on his chest. The S shape.

 

It’s one of the symbols in Lena’s soulmark.

 

“Holy fuck,” Lena whispers to herself. “Superman might be my soulmate.”

 

-

 

“I absolutely despise him,” Lex grits between his teeth. “Prancing around Metropolis like he owns it. How infuriating.”

 

“Oh, calm down, Lex,” Lena answers, sipping her wine as she watches the news coverage of Superman stopping a fire earlier today. “He’s just trying to make this city a better place. Like you.”

 

“Don’t be naïve, Lena. He’s an alien. He has no place here, or on the front page of the news,” Lex snarls. “I built this company from the ground up, without the help of superpowers. _And_ I was born on this earth. Yet he’s the one being worshipped like a god.”

 

Lena spots the glint in his eye, the one that she’s only seen in her mother. Hatred, she thinks, or wrath. Lena’s scared that he’s starting to turn into Lillian.

 

“Lex Luthor! Are you . . . jealous?” Lena asks, putting her hand to her chest in feigned shock. “How scandalous!”

 

Her brother smiles at her. _There’s the Lex I know,_ Lena thinks to herself. “Always so silly, aren’t you, Lena?”

 

“Well. What are little sisters for?”

 

-

 

As it turns out, Lena was right. The glint in his eye she saw that night—she was right. 

 

Lex sets out on a personal vendetta against Superman, stopping him at whatever cost. Even if it’s thousands of human lives.

 

Lena avoids all press, does not comment about what she thinks of her brother. Denies assisting the police. Stays out of the public eye. 

 

She would prefer to grieve the loss of the only family she’s ever known in privacy.

 

-

 

As Lex toes the line between bad and absolute _evil_ , Lena just prays that Lex doesn’t remember what her soulmark looks like.

 

-

 

Months later, her brother is defeated. Serving thirty-two consecutive life sentences.

 

In the silence of her apartment, Lena cries.

 

And cries and cries and _cries._

 

-

 

Lena moves to National City in the hopes of starting a new life. Away from Lillian, away from Lex.

 

She inherits Lex’s company anyway, despite her mother’s allegations against her brilliance. Proposes to rename it from Luthor Corp to L Corp.

 

She’ll do better.

 

-

 

Despite the absolute temptation to visit James Olsen and ask him to contact Superman to see if they’re soulmates, Lena doesn’t. She remembers Lex, buying her ice cream and sharing his toys and wiping her tears. She remembers _her brother_ , and she can’t. She just can’t.

 

-

 

Just when Lena thought she’s had enough to deal with in her life, the unimaginable happens. _Again._

 

Metropolis has Superman, National City has _Supergirl._

 

Because _of course_ Superman would have a cousin who would want to do the same things he does. Wearing the same symbol on her chest. Of course.

 

Just Lena’s _fucking_ luck.

 

-

 

She starts displaying pro-alien sentiments, in the hopes that she’ll stop drawing comparisons with her brother in the media. If she’s being honest, it’s tiring, and perhaps even quite disturbing.

 

Maybe Lena can even get the support of the general public.

 

It backfires, though, when she finds out she’s being sought after by people who are not very happy about aliens on Earth. Very powerful people, if they can manage to put a bomb in a spacecraft.

 

-

 

Clark Kent comes to her for an interview and Lena already _knows_ what kind of questions she’ll get from him because of her goddamned last name. She’s days away from the ceremonial renaming of her company, and yet.

 

Who catches her eye, though, is the woman Clark brings with him. She’s pretty—like the kind of girls Lena would bring home when she was in college. She’s got something in her, too; like a spark waiting to be turned into a flame. Cat Grant’s always had an eye for greatness, after all.

 

And Kara Danvers, Lena thinks, is no exception.

 

-

 

Of all people that can save her, it’s Supergirl.

 

There are drones sent out to kill her and firing more bullets than Lena can count, and the person risking her life so that Lena stays alive is the cousin of her brother’s sworn enemy. 

 

“You’re safe now,” Supergirl tells her, calm and strong.

 

“What the hell was that?” Lena asks. Her hands are shaking and her eyes are wet and _she’s never been in this situation before._

 

“Someone’s trying to kill you,” is all Supergirl answers.

 

-

 

Lex is _after her._

 

After her countless attempts to save his life and the years she spent by his side, he’s _after her._ Sends a creepy assassin with a British accent to _kill_ her. On the day she gets rid of his legacy from the name of her company.

Lena doesn’t admit it, but her heart breaks, just a little bit.

 

-

 

The article Kent writes about her is something that can boost L Corp, and she’s grateful. God knows she needs it. And perhaps one of the proudest moments of Lena’s life comes when Clark Kent tells her that— 

 

“I was wrong about you, Miss Luthor,” he says, smile on his face. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Well, if I can make a believer of Clark Kent, there’s hope yet,” Lena says, then turns to face Kara. “And what about you, Miss Danvers? I didn’t see your name on the byline.”

 

“Uh. Well, like I said, I’m not a reporter,” Kara replies.

 

“You could have fooled me,” Lena tells her.

 

Kara flushes—just the tiniest bit—and looks at Lena, in awe. Lena just thinks: _maybe._

 

“I hope this isn’t the last time we talk?” Lena asks.

 

“I hope not, either,” is Kara’s reply, voice soft and smile sweet.

 

_Maybe,_ Lena thinks, her heart close to melting. _Maybe._

 

-

 

The President wants to sign an Alien Amnesty Act, and she can almost _hear_ her brother’s rage. She feels bad for the personnel at his prison who have to deal with him.

 

Kara Danvers (now a reporter, God, Lena _knew_ she had it) comes to her for an interview, because it’s quite impossible for Lena to escape her brother’s shadow. She smiles at Lena, and something about it makes Lena feel antsy. Like she doesn’t have all the pieces to a puzzle.

 

“I want to show you something,” Lena says, retrieving the device she’s been working on since she heard about Alien Amnesty being proposed. She brings it out, shows it to Kara.

 

“What is it?” Kara asks.

 

“It’s an alien detection device,” Lena answers, “that allows humans to find out who among them is not truly one of them.”

 

Kara looks at it oddly, but takes down notes anyway.

 

“It’s not market-ready yet—I mean, we’re still developing the prototype,” Lena explains further. “But we aim to have this device in every store in every town all across America.”

 

Kara looks at her, seemingly unfazed. “How does it work?” 

 

“It’s just a simple skin test.” Lena picks up the device. “Let me show you what a negative response looks like.”

 

She puts her thumb against it, and the light flashes green. 

 

“See? Right,” Lena says, handing it over to Kara. “Now you try.”

 

Kara stares at her, reluctant. “But doesn’t a device like that,” Kara tells her, “doesn’t it go against everything America stands for?”

 

Lena frowns, tilts her head. She puts the device down, and crosses her arms. “Such as?”

 

“Well—freedom?” Kara says, and laughs nervously. “Against persecution, oppression; America’s always been a country full of immigrants.”

 

“Well, it’s also always been a country of humans,” is Lena’s reply. 

 

“Ah, just—don’t you think this device will force aliens back into the very shadows the President is trying to shine a light on?”

 

(She’s gotten messages that she’s exactly like her brother before, but none of them want to make her crawl out from her skin as much as Kara Danvers’ allegations.)

 

“Aliens want to be citizens, that’s now their right,” Lena says. “But if humans want to know which of their fellow citizens aren’t actually one of them, then that’s their right, too.”

 

_I am not my brother I am not my brother I am not my brother—_

 

“I’m a businesswoman. L Corp is in the business of making money, and this device will make us a fortune.”

 

— _I am not my brother I am not my brother I am not my brother—_

 

“But unlike my brother, I’m gonna do it for the good of the world.” Lena sits down, picks up the device, and points it to Kara.

 

Kara puts her thumb against it, and the device flashes negative.

 

“See?” Lena says. “Nothing to worry about.”

 

-

 

Lena’s crush on Kara is getting a bit out of hand. 

 

Her thumbs are frozen mid-text, a message reading _Are you free tomorrow at 8?_ waiting to be sent. (Lena got Kara’s number from Cat Grant, who sent it alongside a winking emoji.) She’s never been nervous about asking a girl out before, but something tells her that Kara’s different.

 

Lena doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

 

She hits delete and locks her phone.

 

-

 

Kara’s article about her is gorgeous and poignant and hard-hitting. She invites her over, because talking to girls is what Lena does best. 

 

(And, Lena won’t admit it, but this is the best way to get her and Kara alone without straight up asking her out, so.)

 

“Hi,” Kara says, bursting in her room, all fire and sunshine. “I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced, I just got the message you wanted to see me—those flowers are beautiful.”

 

_Score,_ Lena thinks. She had these flowers brought all the way from the Philippines. “They’re called plumerias,” she tells Kara, the local name escaping her. “They’re rare.”

 

“They remind me of my mother,” Kara says.

 

“Was your mother a writer, too?” 

 

“No, she was, um. I guess . . . sort of a lawyer.”

 

_Was,_ Lena notes. Plumerias are flowers for the dead, after all. “Well, you have a natural gift with words. your article was amazing.”

 

Kara grins, lets out a laugh that tells Lena she’s not used to being commended for her reporting.

 

“I knew you would make a great reporter,” Lena reassures her, “but after I heard your bleeding heart pro-alien views, I was afraid you’d do a hatchet job on me.”

 

“Oh, I tried,” Kara says, taking a seat on Lena’s couch. “I tried. I wrote a scathing article about your device.”

 

“And?”

 

“And my boss tossed it. He made me redo it.”

 

Lena doesn’t know what to feel that it’s _Snapper Carr_ that approves of her device, and not Kara. “Well, that explains it.”

 

“But the funny thing is, I’m glad he did. I mean, not at first,” Kara tells her, “but some things happened that made me rethink my position.”

 

Lena eases into Kara’s space, rests her head in her hand. “Do tell.”

 

“I still think Alien Amnesty is a good thing,” Kara says, in a _to-be-clear_ fashion, “but there _are_ bad aliens out there.”

 

Lena smiles out of relief—and maybe happiness—that Kara doesn’t think that she’s anything like her brother. “Well, I’m glad you could see from my point of view.”

 

She tells Kara about Lex, about why she invented the thing the first place. Kara grins at her like she’s learned something.

 

_Maybe_.

 

-

 

**Cat Grant [10.04pm]**

 

You go out with her yet?

 

**You [10.22pm]**

 

Sorry for the late reply. And no, I asked for Kara Danvers’ number for work reasons.

 

**Cat Grant [10.23pm]**

 

Of course you did.

 

**You [10.23pm]**

 

Oh, come on, Cat. Let’s be mature here. I just want a reporter on-hand in case I need the press to know anything.

 

**Cat Grant [10.24pm]**

 

You have National City’s most elite at your beck and call, Lena. Why a newbie reporter from a fashion magazine?

 

**You [10.24pm]**

 

From what I’ve heard, you believe in her as much as I do, Cat.

 

**Cat Grant [10.24pm]**

 

Touché.

 

Anyway, for future reference, she has no soulmark, and she loves potstickers. Just in case you need it.

 

**You [10.27pm]**

 

Thank you, Cat.

 

**Cat Grant [10.28pm]**

 

You’re welcome. ;)

 

-

 

**Cat Grant [12.24am]**

 

She’s amazing, isn’t she?

 

**You [12.25am]**

 

She is. 

 

Good night, Cat.

 

**Cat Grant [12.25am]**

 

Good night, Lena. 

 

-

 

The next time Lena sees Kara, it’s a week later, at the end of a particularly rough day. 

 

She’s had _enough_ of old rich white men feeling like they can tell her what to do because she’s a) a woman, and b) a Luthor crawling her way back up. She could probably take down every single one of them if she tried, but she won’t.

 

So she’s tired and sleepy and craving a burger and milkshake when Kara walks into the room, Jess apologetic behind her.

 

“I swear, she just blinked and she got right past me,” Jess tells her.

 

“Lena,” Kara says, “this is my fault, I’m so sorry—”

 

“She’s _so_ fast,” Jess says.

 

“I just need to talk to you.” Kara looks at her, hopeful.

 

“Jess, will you make downstairs that Kara Danvers is to be shown in right away whenever possible?” Lena tells more than asks. It’s risky—she’s never done that with anyone before. Jess probably knows something’s up.

 

“Yes, Miss Luthor,” is all Jess replies, and she leaves the room.

 

“Really?” Kara asks, and Lena nods. “Thank you.”

 

“Now,” Lena says, taking a seat. “How can I help?”

 

Kara needs help contacting _Veronica Sinclair,_ of all fucking people. Lena tells her they went to boarding school together—doesn’t mention that they may have spent a few afternoons in a utility closet, biting each other’s lips to stay quiet—and gives an address for Roulette’s stupid alien fighting ring.

 

(She may have attended once, but she won’t tell Kara that. Not after seeing her reaction to the detection device.)

 

Lena hands her the piece of paper, and when their hands touch, Lena swears to God that her hip _burns._

 

She watches Kara walk away—legs lean and long, hair swishing—and Lena remembers the chopper, the renaming ceremony, the goddamn S in her soulmark.

 

-

 

“Jess,” Lena calls, “how many hours do I have free today?”

 

The answer is immediate. “You’re lucky today, Miss Luthor. You have two hours. Nothing on your schedule from ten-thirty until twelve-thirty.”

 

“Get me a car, then,” Lena says.

 

“Right away, Miss Luthor. To where?”

 

“CatCo.”

 

-

 

She tells Kara about the gala, hopes to God it makes her proud. Lena feels brave, so— 

 

She takes a deep breath in, and says, “I was hoping you’d come.”

 

There’s a boy Kara’s with: handsome, glasses, intrusive. _Jealous_? Lena wonders. God, of course Kara would have a boyfriend, she’s beautiful and markless, and Lena might as well stand no chance at all. 

 

Kara says yes, and so does the boy— _Mike_ —and Lena tries to still her too fast heart. 

 

-

 

It’s when Lena’s on the way back to L Corp when she feels her soulmark itching, calling.

 

Lena thinks about how she’s never seen Supergirl and Kara at the same time, despite all of Kara’s exclusives on her. Thinks about Kara’s pro-alien sentiments, thinks about Roulette’s goddamn fighting ring, thinks about Jess saying _she’s so fast._

 

(Thinks about the S on her soulmark, when all she needs to be written there is _Kara Danvers._ )

 

“Turn around,” Lena says to her driver.

 

-

 

Lena asks for a favour back.

 

Well, pretends to. She’s got the beginning of a theory tugging at the edges of her mind, barely there, built on wishful thinking.

 

She enters Kara’s apartment, and when she sees the _agent_ that beat the fuck out of Lex’s hitman, her pulse quickens. 

 

“Special Agent Alex Danvers, FBI,” she says, and Lena feels like her brain is going a mile a minute.

 

“She’s my sister,” Kara clarifies, and _Jesus Christ,_ Lena really doesn’t want to hope, but here she is.

 

-

 

Supergirl visits her, arrives just like Cat Grant said she would ( _Lena, if you have a balcony outside your office, don’t even try hoping she’ll come in through the front door),_ and during their entire conversation, Lena’s hip stings, and her heart races.

 

Lena thinks of Kara— _Kara,_ Kara—her shy smile and her soft voice, and reminds herself to breathe.

 

-

 

Kara arrives at the fundraiser, breathtakingly beautiful. Supergirl does, too—at the same time. Lena knows it’s probably a coincidence, or that Supergirl made sure she and Kara arrived together, or whatever, but—

 

Lena can’t help but _hope._

 

-

 

Her black body field generator _works._

 

She looks for Kara when the smoke clears, but Lena doesn’t find her anywhere.

 

Instead, Supergirl beams at her, hands on hips. 

 

-

 

Okay. So Lena’s decided—she’s going to try to _not_ like Kara Danvers.

 

What she expects: lots of alcohol, lots of girls, and working overtime on weekends. 

 

What she doesn’t expect: Kara walking into her office, telling Lena she’s doing a puff piece; and Lena’s heart just—hitting the ground. 

 

So much for her plan.

 

-

 

Kara’s smart. She’s _so_ smart, and there’s just the feeling she can’t shake, the same one she felt when Kara was grilling her about the detection device. Lena’s skin feels too tight for her body.

 

She calls her mother.

 

-

 

There’s something about seeing Lillian for the first time in _years_ that just opens up a can of worms inside Lena. The words come crawling up her throat before she even knows it.

 

“You never let me forget that I’m adopted,” she tells her mother. “When it comes to your children, _Lex_ ”—Lena spits it out like acid—“was always your favourite.”

 

Lillian glares at her. “And you always your father’s.”

 

“You sound almost jealous.”

 

“You shouldn’t take it so personally. No parent truly loves their children equally,” Lillian says. “And, though, maybe I loved Lex more—”

 

Lena inhales, prepares herself. God, this family never fails to surprise her.

 

“—I do love you, Lena. In my own way.”

 

_Ah_ , Lena thinks. _There._

 

“Well,” Lena says, trying to stop her voice from trembling. “Now that we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way, let me ask: _What the hell are you up to?_ ”

 

“We’ve hardly spoken since Lex’s trial, I thought—maybe you called me here to make amends,” is Lillian’s reply. “It’s Thanksgiving, after all.”

 

She’s scrambling, Lena gathers. Deflecting. 

 

“But I see I was mistaken.” Lillian gathers her things, starts walking away, but Lena won’t let her have the last word.

 

“There’s a reporter sniffing about,” she says, and Lena thinks of Kara. Gorgeous, radiant Kara, who never gives up. “She’s smart. She knows something about you. What is it?”

 

“I couldn’t possibly imagine,” Lillian says. Lena thinks she sounds almost condescending.

 

“See, I know you’re lying,” Lena tells her.

 

“And how would you _know_ that?” her mother retorts, mocking.

 

“Because you told me you love me,” Lena spits, “and we both know that’s not true.”

 

-

 

Her building gets attacked.

 

She’s been notified to evacuate, but she has to see herself, see if her mother was responsible, see if Kara was onto something.

 

When she arrives at the lobby, Supergirl’s already there, battling a … cyborg?

 

Lena barely has enough time to decipher what’s going on until Supergirl gets slammed into the L Corp sign in the middle of the floor. 

 

Lena’s hip _burns_ again, just like it always does around her, but it’s different, this time. It feels like the heat is shooting through all the veins in her body, like she got slammed into concrete, too, and she can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t _think_ — 

 

She wills her body to move, because, _fuck_ , the cyborg is about to throw a ton of concrete at her, but all she can do is stumble a few steps backward before Supergirl zooms right in front of her, absorbing the impact.

 

“Get out of here,” she warns.

 

Lena _runs._

 

-

 

Lena figures that her office is safe enough. If the cyborg was after her, she would have been killed much, much earlier. 

 

Supergirl arrives, and Lena thanks her, but it’s clear that she didn’t visit Lena for her gratitude. 

 

“Now I need your help,” Supergirl tells her, eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“Anything.”

 

“I need help finding your mother.”

 

_Jesus,_ Lena thinks. Lillian seems to be the star of the show today. “My mother.”

 

“Your mother,” Supergirl says, “is behind Cadmus. She’s their leader.”

 

And Lena feels the dread sinking in her gut, slowly, because she’s heard of Cadmus, that anti-alien _terrorist_ organisation, and all Lena can see in her head is Lex, killing thousands and thousands of people, driving himself insane over killing Superman, Lillian always loving him more. She’d always thought that Lex would grow up to be just like Lillian, but _clearly_ he’d surpassed his mother’s cruelty a long, long time ago. 

 

Or so Lena thought. 

 

_Impossible_ , Lena thinks, even though Supergirl isn’t really famous for telling lies. Still, Lena says—

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“I’m not,” Supergirl replies. “She kidnapped me, and now she possesses a virus that could wipe out the entire alien population in National City.”

 

A memory appears in Lena’s mind. Lex, menacing, showing her a vial, saying _Isn’t it beautiful, Lena? This is Medusa._

 

“I need you to help me find her,” Supergirl pleads, “so that she doesn’t hurt any more innocent people.”

 

Lena’s chest tightens, and _no,_ she’s lost too much already—Lex to Superman, and perhaps her mother to Supergirl. 

 

She’s not going to let it happen. 

 

The world just might as well crumble under her feet. 

 

“You know, I thought you were different,” Lena says, putting her walls up. “You wear that— _symbol_ on your chest and everyone thinks you’re good. How many times has your _cousin_ put on that high and mighty costume and come after Lex?”

 

Lena tries to calm down, but her entire universe is on the edge of shattering. “My mother’s no saint, but you come in here and accuse her of being the devil incarnate?”

 

Supergirl doesn’t do anything but _stare_ at her, and Lena scowls. She asks the question that’s been unsettling her ever since she found out Superman’s cousin is roaming around National City. “How long before you come after me?”

 

To Lena’s surprise, Supergirl’s face turns _soft,_ like Lena’s just unearthed something that’s been buried for years. It catches Lena off-guard. “I know what it’s like to be disillusioned by our parents,” she says, voice low, sincere enough that she could only be speaking from memory. And because Supergirl’s always been depicted as this _goddess,_ ethereal and untouchable, it never occurred to Lena that she had a _family_ back there on Krypton. That she grew up just like anyone else.

 

Lena suddenly feels guilty that she’s privy to this side of Supergirl—National City’s favourite darling, about to break in front of her very eyes. “But I’m a pretty good judge of character,” she continues, “and you are _not_ like your mother.”

 

The words hit her like a freight train.

 

Years and _years_ of rebuilding her name, of trying to live a life outside of Lex, of raising her company from dust. The lengths she’s gone in order to be a Luthor, the lengths she’s gone in order to not. Remembering who her brother was, resenting who he is. Validated. _Real._

 

And of all people, it’s _Supergirl_ —a woman who may as well kill Lex at first sight —who reassures her.

 

It makes her chest cave in, and Lena’s dizzy with all of it.

 

“She is cold,” Supergirl tells her, “and _dangerous_ ; and you are too good and too smart to follow in her path.”

 

Lena blinks—her eyes are burning and wet. She swallows the lump in her throat. _God,_ she thinks to herself, _what a disaster_.

 

“Be your own hero.” Supergirl’s tone is firm, faithful.

 

_I will,_ Lena thinks, before urging Supergirl to leave.

 

This problem, she has to solve alone. 

 

-

 

Later, Lena asks Jess to call Evan, L Corp’s alien biochem consultant. He’s young, but intelligent and purposeful, and Lena adores him for it.

 

He enters Lena’s office, eyes bright. “You asked for me, Miss Luthor?”

 

“Yes.” Lena stands from where she’s seated, rolls out the crick in her neck. “We need to finalise project Perseus by tonight, I’m afraid.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen. “Oh, Miss Luthor,” he whispers. “I have been waiting for this day for a _very_ long time.”

 

Lena grins. “We’re not leaving the lab until we’re _sure_ that it has a one hundred percent success rate.”

 

“We—like, you and I, ma’am? Working together?”

 

“Of course, Evan. I need to see it for myself. Or would you rather I not be there?”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Luthor.”

 

“Good. Let’s get to work.”

 

-

 

It takes them a good three hours to finish the formula, to test it against the limited supply of Medusa she had stolen from her brother. Evan is brilliant, and Lena knows the virus like the back of her hand, so they work pretty efficiently.

 

She sees Isotope 454 out of the corner of her eye, and—oh. _Oh._

 

Lena gets an idea. 

 

It might be her best yet.

 

“Evan,” Lena says. “Do you think we can modify Perseus so that it would look and function like Isotope 454? Make it a dispersing agent?”

 

He frowns, studying the chemical in front of him. “We can try, Miss Luthor. Though, if I may: why would you need to make these modifications?”

 

“A girl needs to have her secrets,” Lena replies.

 

“Of course.” Evan smiles, sheepish. “Alright, then. Shall we?”

 

Lena can _feel_ the excitement rushing out of her, the tips of her fingers tingling. “We shall.”

 

-

 

She calls her mother again. Tells her she’ll join her cause. Feeds her ego.

 

And _oh,_ nothing gets Lillian Luthor more than people telling her she’s right.

 

_Gotcha,_ Lena just thinks.

 

-

 

On their way to the pier, Lena vaguely wonders if Kara knew. If it’s the reason behind the interview she gave that morning.

 

_Then I’m doing this for her_ , she thinks to herself. For Kara, for Supergirl, for Evan, for everyone who’s ever believed in her. 

 

For everyone who’s ever thought that _Lena_ didn’t mean _Lex_ , that _Luthor_ didn’t mean _evil_.

 

She hopes they’re proud.

 

-

 

As she launches the rocket into the sky, Lena feels the promise of freedom.

 

-

 

It _worked._ Perseus—it fucking _worked._

 

“They should be dead,” Lena hears her mother whisper hopelessly. “All aliens should be dead.”

 

Lena walks up to face her mother, and there’s nothing quite as satisfying as the moment when her mother smirks and says, “You. You switched out the Isotope. You made the virus inert.”

 

Lena raises an eyebrow. “I did. And I called the police.”

 

-

 

Supergirl brings her back to an agency called _the DEO_ —Department of Extranormal Operations. An entire _government agency_ dedicated to alien activity.

 

It’s fascinating, really. Her hands itch for their tech, but she was told to not ask any questions, and not to overstep her boundaries.

 

“Miss Luthor,” a voice says from behind her, and Lena turns around.

 

“Agent Danvers,” Lena says, recognising her face. “I suppose the DEO is where you _really_ work?”

 

Alex grins. “Yes, ma’am,” she says. “We would also like to thank you for what you did tonight—it was very brave, and the DEO and the entire alien population of National City is forever in your debt. However, if you still have any of the Medusa counteragent, I’m afraid we have to take it—it’s not patented, is it?”

 

Lena shakes her head. “You can take it. There’s only a little left, it’s all in L Corp’s lab. Feel free to use it for whatever you wish.”

 

_Better to the DEO than to her mother,_ Lena thinks. At least she knows she’s made _this_ amend to aliens on Earth. It’s not enough to atone for Lex’s sins, but still—it’s a start.

 

“Thank you. A team will be sent to collect it soon,” Alex says. “By the way, Miss Luthor—the head of the DEO’s legal team is waiting to speak with you outside regarding your mother’s prosecution.”

 

Lena sighs. _And so it begins again._

 

-

 

The head of the DEO’s legal team is the _last_ person Lena would expect.

 

“Major Lucy Lane,” the woman says, holding out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Pleasure is all mine.” Lena shakes her hand, then asks, “Lois’ sister?”

 

“Lex’s sister?” Lucy counters.

 

_Ah._ “Touché.” Lena grins. “Now, Major Lane, what do you wish to speak with me about?”

 

“Actually,” Lucy says, reaching for a manila folder resting on the table beside her. “I’m not here to discuss your mother’s case.”

 

Lena’s eyebrows furrow. “Oh? Then what is it?”

 

Lucy opens the folder, and it contains Lena’s personal information—a picture of her, her name, address, adoption history— _it’s all there._ Jesus. The United States government has _access to all of this._

 

“Miss Luthor, I need to speak with you about your soulmark,” Lucy tells her, quiet. 

 

Lena’s heart races, her cheeks flush. She panics. _Fuck._ “Soulmate privacy laws—”

 

“Don’t apply when a person is under federal investigation,” Lucy says. “Don’t worry, Miss Luthor, I’m the only one around here with a high enough military clearance to bypass the privacy laws.”

 

Lena’s shoulders sag in relief. “What about my soulmark?”

 

“Miss Luthor, do you know what your soulmark says?” Lucy asks.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t.” Lena purses her lips. “Do you, Major Lane?”

 

Lucy flips to a page where her soulmark is displayed, clear as day. _Where did they even get this_? “I’m quite familiar with the markings, ma’am—Lois has very similar ones. And from what I can remember, she can read them.”

 

Wait. _What?_ “Are you saying—my soulmark is _real?_ It isn’t some weird fuckup?”

 

Lucy laughs. “Miss Luthor, judging by the symbol at the end of your soulmark—I’m pretty sure it isn’t a fuckup.”

 

Too much has happened today. Too fucking much. “Jesus,” Lena mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“My sister is currently staying at a hotel a few blocks away. She’s in National City covering Cadmus—I can have you escorted there, if you would like,” Lucy tells her. 

 

Lena knows she could say _no,_ just live her life like this conversation never happened, just go on picking up girls at bars and not knowing who she’s apparently destined to be with forever. Simple. Normal. Easy.

 

But then she thinks of Kara, always, _always_ , of Kara; about the theory that she’s been working on that may as well be true by now, with the number of connections she’s made. How Supergirl believes in her, that stupid symbol on her chest, and how Kara does, too.

 

Thinks about how she falls in love a little bit with Kara everyday, and how it’s not _hard_ to.

 

She just needs to _know._

 

“Yes,” Lena tells Lucy. “Yes, please take me there.”

 

-

 

Lois Lane is everything Lena expected her to be. Hard-hitting, fierce, and quite beautiful.

 

“Lucy told me to expect you, Miss Luthor,” Lois says, sitting up on her bed and patting the space beside her. “Sit.”

 

Lena does, and Lois pours her a glass of wine, which she gladly accepts.

 

“Now, Lucy is not allowed to show me a picture of your soulmark, because she has to uphold the law and all that,” Lois tells her, “so if you want me to read it, you’ll have to show me where it is.”

 

“It’s on my hip,” Lena says, “if you don’t mind.”

 

Lois raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”

 

Lena purses her lips and shakes her head. She raises her dress so that her soulmark is visible, and Lois studies it closely.

 

“Well, Lucy was right. I do know what language this is in,” Lois says, “and I have a feeling you do, too, Miss Luthor.”

 

“Kryptonese,” Lena offers, because _what else could it be_? “She told me yours is, too?”

 

“Mhm,” Lois says, and collects her hair in order to expose the skin behind her ear. Sure enough, she has the similar-looking symbols there. 

 

Lena suddenly remembers that Lois Lane is _married,_ though, so she asks—“Is Mister Kent comfortable knowing he is not your soulmate?”

 

Lois looks up at her and frowns. “Clark _is_ my soulmate.”

 

And it fucking _clicks_ in Lena’s head. The look he always gives her, like she’s the scum of the earth.

 

“Clark Kent is Superman,” Lena whispers to herself, her mind whirring. “ _Clark Kent_ is _Superman_.” 

 

Lois, on her part, acts like Lena hadn’t said anything. “That S they wear on their chest is actually the symbol of their family, and since there’s only one relative of Clark’s left, you know who yours is.”

 

Lena nods. She’s known for a long time. “Supergirl.”

 

Lois grins. “Well, time for you to know the truth, Miss Luthor. Supergirl’s name.”

 

Lena steels herself. Her body goes tense. “Okay. Okay, go.”

 

“Kara Zor-El,” Lois says. “Your soulmark. It says Kara Zor-El in Kryptonese.”

 

Lena’s breath catches in her throat. Her heart stutters. She _couldn’t_ have heard that right. “Kara—”

 

“You may know Kara Zor-El as Kara Danvers, Miss Luthor. It’s the name she adopted on Earth,” Lois tells her. 

 

Lena’s quiet for a few moments before she gasps quietly, then _sobs._ She’s got a hand on her chest as it heaves and Lois is taken aback, but her eyes are kind.

 

“Oh, Lena,” Lois whispers, and Lena knows it’s because she _gets it,_ what it’s like having a soulmark in a language you can’t understand and finally knowing what it says. “I know. I know.” 

 

“I was right,” Lena says to no one in particular. Everything is falling into place. “God, _fuck,_ Kara’s such a terrible liar—I— _fuck_.”

 

Lois rubs her hand on Lena’s back, offers a tissue, and Lena cries. Just cries, thinks about how she’s _meant_ to love Kara, and _God,_ how amazing that sounds. To be destined for her. 

 

Her chest aches with the effort she needs to exert in order to _breathe,_ and all the moments she hoped Kara was Supergirl and shot herself down seem silly. _I was right._

 

“I have—I have to see her,” Lena gasps. “I have to—”

 

“You need some time to take it in, Miss Luthor, don’t think I’m letting you go to Kara looking like _that._ ” Lois gets up and gets Lena a glass of water, which she gulps in one go.

 

It’s ten minutes later when Lena’s tears have finally slowed down enough that her vision isn’t blurry, and her heart doesn’t feel like it wants to burst out of her chest anymore.

 

“Kara’s at her apartment,” Lois tells her, “Lucy just texted. You can find your way?”

 

Lena nods. “Thank you, Miss Lane, and—sorry for being an emotional wreck around you.”

 

“It’s fine. Just go get her.” Lois beams at her.

 

Lena grins back. “I will.”

 

-

 

She’s just reached the lobby of Lois’ hotel when she realises that she can’t move fast enough. After getting an Uber, she calls Kara.

 

“Lena?” Kara sounds cheery, even at this hour. “What is it?”

 

Lena closes her eyes and exhales, shakily. “Kara,” she says, voice hoarse and a bit broken.

 

“Wha—what’s wrong? Are you okay?” There’s rustling on the other line; Lena figures that Kara’s getting out of bed. 

 

“I’m on my way to your place,” Lena tells her. “Is that okay?”

 

“I—yeah. Yeah, okay, Lena.” Kara pauses. “What do you need me for?”

 

_Everything,_ Lena wants to say, but she bites her lip. “There’s just—something I need to tell you. It’s quite urgent.”

 

“Oh, okay. Be safe, Lena,” Kara says.

 

Her car pulls up at the front of the hotel. Lena practically _runs_ to it. “Thank you, Kara. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

 

“See you,” Kara says, then hangs up.

 

-

 

Twenty-one terribly agonising minutes later, Lena finds herself in front of Kara’s door. Her hand is curled into a fist, ready to knock, but her fingers can’t seem to stop trembling.

 

When she finally gets to rap on the door, though, Kara’s response is immediate. “Lena,” she says, brows furrowed in concern. “Are you alri—oh, gosh, you look like you’ve been crying. Come in.” 

 

Kara offers her a seat on the couch and a beer, which Lena politely refuses. Lena watches her move, how gorgeous she is in the low light. She wonders if all people feel this when they look at their soulmate—but it’s hard to imagine someone else who feels the same way that Lena does, right at this very moment.

 

“Now,” Kara says, sitting down and settling her hand on Lena’s knee. It makes Lena’s hip burn. “What’s wrong?”

 

Lena exhales. She has no idea how to start this conversation; she was running how she could intro on the way here, but there’s no way around it, so. She wills her voice not to waver when she says, “Kara Zor-El.”

 

Kara jolts. She flinches away from Lena, and Lena aches at the loss of her touch. “Where did you learn that name?” Her tone is apprehensive, and it makes Lena wince.

 

“Please, just—trust me for a few minutes here, Kara? Don’t freak out.” Lena’s fingers are still shaking when she rolls up her dress.

 

“Lena— _what_ are you—I don’t— _Lena!_ ” Kara yelps. “Please explain why you’re undressing.”

 

Lena holds up her hand to urge Kara to relax, uses the other to push her dress over her hip, exposing her soulmark.

 

“Oh,” Kara sighs when she sees it. “Yeah, that—that’s Kara Zor-El.”

 

Lena searches Kara’s face for a reaction—happiness, heartbreak, anger, _anything_ —but her face is frustratingly blank. Lena’s stomach sinks.

 

“Please tell me this is okay,” Lena pleads, voice so small. She reaches for Kara’s hand, squeezes. “Please say you’re okay with this.”

 

“I— _Lena,_ it’s my cousin who took your brother away from you,” Kara tells her. “I should be the one asking _you_.” 

 

Lena shakes her head. “Kara. I think it’s pathetic how in love I am with you,” Lena says, because there’s no point in hiding the truth now. “Superman took Lex, you took Lillian. Do I look like I want to leave?”

 

Kara’s hand twitches from where Lena’s holding it. Kara moves in closer, uses her other hand to touch Lena’s soulmark, and it makes Lena shiver. They’re like this for a long time before Kara looks up, eyes hopeful. 

 

She wraps a hand around the back of Lena’s neck and pulls her in for a kiss.

 

The kiss is slow, despite the desperation and the want that roars in Lena. It feels right, feels like finally being able to breathe again after drowning, feels like any other cliché Lena could think of but _more._ Lena clutches at any part of Kara she can hold—her shirt, her arm, her hair—before Kara solves her problem by straddling Lena, taking both of her hands and interlocking their fingers.

 

It’s Lena who pulls away first, and she sees Kara, eyes still closed and lips swollen. She thinks it’s almost stupid, how happy she is, grinning at the lipstick smudged all over Kara’s face. Her heart's still racing and her hip _aches_ , and Kara’s kissed her.

 

“You know,” Kara whispers, opening her eyes. “I’ve kinda been wanting to do that for a while now.” She releases her hand from Lena’s and traces her name on Lena’s hip. It’s so _intimate,_ the way she brushes her skin there, and warmth pools at the bottom of Lena’s stomach.

 

“You have?” Lena exhales, shaky and wet. She’s been crying.

 

Kara nods, wipes the tears from Lena’s cheeks, and kisses her again.

 

-

 

Lena stays the night, which isn’t a surprise for either of them. The following morning, Kara wakes Lena up with a nudge on her shoulder.

 

When Lena opens her eyes, she sees that Kara’s already fully dressed. “Off to work already?” Lena mumbles.

 

“Yeah,” Kara says. “I just—couldn’t leave without like, talking to you. Or kissing you.”

 

Lena _melts._ “Don’t kiss me now,” she protests, “my breath is gross.”

 

“Uh, don’t care,” Kara says, before leaning in quickly to kiss Lena. 

 

Lena groans when Kara pulls away. “Unfair,” she says. “Superspeed.”

 

“It does have its perks.” Kara grins. “Though there’s something else I need you to do.” 

 

Lena props her head up on her hand, her elbow digging into her pillow. “What is it?”

 

Kara brings out a permanent marker from her purse. “I have a feeling I won’t be able to see you for the rest of the day, because the DEO needs me to deal with the aftermath of Cadmus’ fall. And as you know, I’m an _alien_ , so, like, my body doesn’t work the same way as humans—I don’t have a soulmark. So if you could just—write your name? On my shoulder, so no one can see it, even if I’m in my suit. I’ll get it tattooed soon, but the marker should be good enough for now.”

 

Lena’s silent for a few minutes, her chest full, and she has no idea what to say. What Kara’s doing is entirely too cheesy, but it makes Lena grin like an idiot, because Kara _trusts_ her. Because after years of wondering whose name is on her hip, she ends up with someone like _her_ , of all people. Kara’s perfect, and Lena finds it ridiculous that Kara wants her, too.

 

“How romantic of you,” Lena says, and takes the marker from Kara’s hand. 

 

Kara sits down on the bed beside Lena, facing away from her, and pulls down on the collar of her shirt, exposing her shoulder. Even with what little Lena can see, she can tell Kara’s _ripped,_ and maybe Lena can’t help that she sneaks her free hand under the hem of Kara’s top. 

 

“ _Lena,_ ” Kara warns.

 

“My hands are cold,” Lena says, “and your back’s warm.”

 

“Whatever.” Lena can almost _hear_ the smirk on Kara’s face at this point. “I’m late for work, and Snapper’s gonna kill me. Please just—sign your name?”

 

Lena does, because she thinks it just might be impossible to refuse Kara anything. “There,” she says capping the marker. “All done.”

 

Kara readjusts her shirt, stands up, and bends down to steal a kiss from Lena again. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” Lena says, and returns the marker to Kara. “Now, I guess you better get going if you don’t want Carr to chew your head off.”

 

“I really should.” Kara kisses Lena again, and this time Lena returns, morning breath be damned. Kara tastes a little like strawberry lipgloss and a lot like home.

 

“I’ll see you soon, Lena,” Kara says when she pulls away, and heads off.

 

As Lena lies back down on Kara’s bed and smells her scent in the pillows, Lena’s aware of one thing.

 

The name that’s written on her hip, she thinks, is the best thing to ever happen to her.

**Author's Note:**

> whew. also s/o to all my filipinos who, upon seeing the plumerias in that ep, just thought 'kalachuchi lang yan eh. arte arte naman ni lena tangina.' cos same.
> 
> hmu nd cry over these gays w me @ glaeson.tumblr.com


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